


This lust, this vampiric addiction

by BrutalWarElf



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Body Horror, Ghost!Nathan, Graphic kills, Incubus!Skwisgaar, M/M, Seriously gallons of blood, Sleeping in graves and other gross shit, Undeadklok, Vampire!Toki, lots of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:15:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1224223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrutalWarElf/pseuds/BrutalWarElf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rogue vampire Toki unwittingly kill steals from a Incubus. While he sleeps in a haunted mausoleum he gets a nightly visit that may prove his undoing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Steampoweredbunny who wanted brutal vampires.

Weak and feverish with hunger from his long journey, he shadowed one of the choir girls that had caught his attention at the back entrance of the opera house on the way to her home. He left no footprints in the snow as he stalked his victim through the crisp winter night, nor did he the temperature affect him. 

She smelled absolutely delectable; there was something extraordinary about her scent on the evening breeze. The dream-like way in which she glided across the street made her seem like an easy prey. It was too good an opportunity to pass up before he got settled in.

This city wasn’t a bad hunting ground, but he had to be very mindful of whose territory he hunted on since his clan banished him. Fuck them. Why should he adhere to their petty rules, having to skulk about, feeding barely enough not to starve? They were immortals, top of the food chain, the ultimate predator. He would kill as he pleased, as often as he pleased, and tonight, he was going to rip that choir girl limb from limb.

The girl looked fearful as she fumbled with her keys and noticed him across the street. Leaning against a lantern post, he bared his teeth at her in a grin. He allowed her to lay eyes upon him because he liked his prey frightened and helpless. It was a shame she probably wouldn’t notice his fangs from that distance.

With no small amount of impatience he watched her disappear inside. Candlelight cast dancing shadows across the window on the first floor; he was going to have to climb. Strangely, the girl left her window open, gazing outside in a trance-like state of mind before blowing out the candle and retreating into her dark room.

The wall of the townhouse was easy to scale, and he stealthily crept through the open window. The girl was lying in the middle of her four-poster bed, moving restlessly in her sleep. Her heart throbbed loudly in his ears, beckoning him with its entrancing beat.

Crawling up the length of the bed, he hoped she would wake so he could see the mortal fear in her eyes before he sank his fangs into her. That was his favourite thing about feeding, besides the obvious sating of his hunger.

She awoke with a start once he knelt over her, but surprisingly, she reached up to cup his face. Only when she laid hands on him did she look appalled.

‘You’re not him.’ He heard her whisper in horror, making him freeze for a moment.

Her overwhelming scent paired with his hunger got the better of him in spite of her unexpected words, and he ripped her throat out in one greedy bite before she could scream.

Her blood was unlike any he had ever drunk before, sweet and heady like what alcohol had been to his human body. The sharp metallic tang was masked by a completely unfamiliar taste, but it was so delicious that he did not stop to wonder. There was no time for that anyhow, because it gushed out of the wound much quicker than he had anticipated. It did not seem to clot at all. He could not drink fast enough to prevent it from spilling down the front of her shift while she flailed and jerked in his grasp.

It was a waste, but what a sight… The dark crimson blossomed on the white cotton in artful stains. He had always loved the sight of blood.

The girl stilled and he shivered. Arousal spiked through his body for the first time since he had been turned, but it was not aimed at the girl in his arms. Pale eyes above sharp cheekbones flashed through his mind, and he could almost feel the curve of full lips against his ear. The sensations went as unexpectedly as they had come. This was turning out to be a very strange night.

He should make his escape; the longer he lingered near the corpse and the bloody mess he had made of it, the higher the chance of getting caught by either humans or his own kind. He did not want any trouble so soon upon arriving here.

Wiping his face and the blood-soaked front of his shirt with a corner of the sheets, he felt a little disoriented. It was probably best if he found a coffin for the night, or rather, day. Dawn was still far off, but it was an unfamiliar city and he didn’t fancy bunking with decomposing corpses or vermin.

Halfway down the façade of the house he got hit by another wave of vertigo and fell the last six feet, landing painfully on the cobblestones. Moonlight glancing off long limbs danced before his eyes.  There had definitely been something off about the blood, but he hadn’t drunk after the heart stopped. What could possibly be affecting him this way?

Locating the nearest mausoleum took him the better part of the night. Stumbling drunkenly along the moonlit rows of graves of the Lutheran boneyard he finally reached its heavy oaken doors. Picking the lock took him longer than usual with his head swimming, but eventually he managed to drag himself inside.

The oldest tomb farthest from the entrance revealed a set of dusty bones when he heaved the slab of marble aside. He gathered most of them and dumped them unceremoniously in the next grave to make room. The marble was cold and hard beneath his back, but he could not care less. Sleep pulled him under as soon as his head rested in the dust.

 

~*~

 

The brutality with which his intended victim had been devoured was almost akin to a werewolf’s modus operandi, but the body was mostly exsanguinated, and the complete lack of tracks and an intact heart pointed in the direction of a rogue vampire.

Besides annoyance over having to groom a new victim and having to wait to feed for another three nights, he felt a little amused and curious as to what kind of creature dared to barge in here and steal his kill right from his grasp. 

Hunger gnawed at his insides as he winked out of existence, floating across the spirit world. He wondered if vampires were immune to his venom or if the culprit would be stumbling around in a daze somewhere like the humans he afflicted. On this plane of existence he could feel the blood of his intended victim calling to him from afar. He might as well pay the thief a visit before he found himself another prospective meal.

Following the scent the blood marked with his venom, he found himself in a dusty mausoleum. The presence of a ghost withheld him from materializing, but the astral plane gave him easy enough access to the sleeping mind of the creature inside the tomb.

He had been right; it was a vampire – a young one. The body of a young man suspended between life and death rested rigidly on the marble, bone dust clinging to his aristocratic but well-worn clothes and in his sandy ponytail.

Innocent was the word that came to mind despite the knowledge that he apparently was a brutal killer and a thief, and that contradiction fascinated him. Nevertheless, he would teach this vampire baby not to mess with a demon of a higher order.

Vampires did not dream, their minds completely inactive in sleep, but that was not a requirement for him to present himself the vampire’s consciousness.  He appeared in his true form, drinking in the rapt adoration on the youth’s face as they regarded each other.

His victims often mistook him for an angel, but this one was not so easily fooled. Regardless, he was powerless against his spell with the infected blood already coursing through his veins, coming undone in his hands after a single chaste kiss.

‘I’ll teach you not to steal my kills, you little shit.’ He crooned, but he didn’t look like he understood a word of what he was saying.  

The attempts the vampire made at reciprocating his caresses by pawing and nipping at him were thwarted by their existing on a different plane, and it visibly galled him. His frustration was amusing and eerie at the same time. The vampire was almost too willing – generally his victims displayed at least some form of resistance – and the raw passion on his face was mesmerizing.

While working his magic on his body he felt the vampire’s mind willing him into existence, forcing his true form to materialize with the little magic his kind possessed. His concentration slipped as he watched the vampire writhe beneath him in helpless ecstasy, and a cold hand grasped him tightly.

He tore himself away before he could see his good work to completion. The physical contact should not have happened, but he still had two more nights to see his plan through.

 

~*~

 

The man straddling his hips was by far the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, alive or undead. Everything about him was pale and luminescent, from the marble bone structure of his face to his long, slender limbs. His first guess would have been a seraph, but the wicked curve of his pale lips belonged to no angel. Also, he could not imagine a creature of the Lord baring himself in such a lascivious manner. 

His form shimmered in and out of sight as he bent down slowly to press his cool mouth against his pliant lips. One moment he felt real, the next he was made out of stardust, suspended between waking and dreaming.

There was no choice but to accept the ministrations with something akin to gratefulness and reverence while listening to him murmur in the long-dead form of their ancestral language. His heart did not beat, but the borrowed blood surged in his veins as long spidery fingers trailed across his cold skin.

Reaching up to touch the pale hair hovering over his face, his hand passed right through it. He did not know why, but he needed him to be real. The smile deepened, amusement sparkling in hooded eyes.

A cold hand grasped him between his legs, the touches feeling more substantial and persistent the longer they moved together. Need welled up from his core, need to bite and touch and drink this creature in. He clutched tightly when he finally managed to grab hold of his shoulder, his body pressing against a very real presence.    

It fled, and abject misery washed over him at the loss. He did not care what that creature had been or where it had come from, only that he wanted it to come back to him. Unfortunately, it did not, and neither did sleep. It must be nearing dusk.

The marble slab rumbled and grated as he pushed it away to climb out of the tomb. Dusting off his clothes he glanced up at the oculus. Stars were already coming out in the deepening blue of the sky.

‘You’re a mess, kid.’

He started, head swivelling around in panic until his eyes focused on the translucent form of an imposing man with long black hair.

‘What are you doing in my haunt? More importantly, what the hell did you do with my bones?’ The spirit glided closer.

‘Er, sorry abouts dat. I needs a place to sleeps.’ He said sheepishly, holding his cravat to his face to see how bad the bloodstains were.   

‘I guess you can stay. It’s been a while since I had someone to talk to.’

‘Thanks. This is probably a long shots, but was there another mans here last nights or dids I dream dat? Tall, pale, long hair…?’

‘No one was here, kid. It was just you mumbling in your sleep. Speaking of which, I thought vampires didn’t dream.’

‘We’re not supposeds to. I think I hads some bad bloods. I feels like shit.’

‘You’re new to this, aren’t you?’

‘Kinds of. Gots turneds a couple of months ago.’

‘Where’s your maker?’

‘We… didn’ts really see eyes to eyes.’

‘You can always go see the shaman if you need help. He knows a lot of undead lore if you can get through to his mushroom addled mind. He lives in the bad part of town, so watch out for the werewolves.’

‘Thanks, er…? I didn’t catch your name.’

The spirit thought long and hard. ‘I don’t remember. It has been a long time since anyone used it. You have a name, kid?’

‘They used to call me Toki.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toki massacres a bunch of werewolves to get to the shaman for some answers and gets some ominous news.

The ghost hadn’t lied when he said the shaman lived in the bad part of town. The snow on the streets had been trodden to muddy slush, and the dark wooden houses that lined them seemed to lean precariously. A rag tag band of around half a dozen unkempt men blocked the way up ahead. Their heads turned in his direction as one when they caught wind of his approach.

The full moon was still many nights away, but the silent snarls and rising hackles made it obvious enough. Toki did not want any trouble, but the shaman’s dwelling was somewhere down this road, so he decided to push past them warily. He had never tangled with werewolves before, so admittedly it was a risk.

A hand to his chest stopped him in the middle of the group of wolves.

‘You’ve come to the wrong neighbourhood, bloodschucker.’

‘Please unhands me.’ He said, tone polite but menacing. 

He was in no mood to be pushed around by a pack of flea-ridden mutts, yet they seemed eager for conflict.

‘Just lets me goes abouts my business.’

It had taken him long enough to find the place, and he had more errands to run while darkness was upon the city.

‘Turn around now if you don’t want to end up asch our chew toy.’ A man with a face that would have been better suited on a gargoyle slurred.

‘I’s afraids that’s not an option, gargoyles.’ That had not been a clever thing to say, but he was running out of patience. He had questions that needed answering, preferably before he laid himself to rest come dawn. Nervous anticipation somewhere akin to infatuation permeated his entire being at the thought of his encounter last night.

Apparently the gargoyle was the leader of the pack, for one of his companions stepped forward at his signal, arms opening to grab Toki. The bloodlust bloomed in his chest the moment the threat became real, and he moved in to bring the werewolf’s head down and viciously kneed him in the face until he went limp.

Another wolf lunged at him with bared teeth while Toki kicked his first assailant to the ground. The wolves would have been a match for him during a full moon, but the barely superhuman strength they possessed the rest of the month was easily overcome. Stepping up close, he cradled the head of the confused wolf in his hands for a second before twisting it hard enough to snap his neck. He was dead before he hit the ground.

The gargoyle backed up slowly while Toki bent to pick the first assailant back up by his hair and tilted his head back. He took his time to obscenely lick some blood off his face, observing the uneasy remaining wolves. Somewhere the rational part of his brain was cursing himself for making such a scene; two bloodbaths in two nights was a terrible record.

He stopped lapping at the paralyzed wolf’s chin to inquire in none too civilised language whether there were any more takers.

‘You know what, pal? We won’t bother you anymore. Have a good evening.’ The rest of the pack turned tail. Smart, but cowardly.

At least this mess had one upside: he no longer needed to hunt. Even though a smelly werewolf was not the kind of victim he would usually take, he could not pass up on a free meal. Glancing around the empty street he dragged the unconscious body into a dark alley to avoid drawing more attention.

The man slumped against the wall as Toki propped him up for better access. Remembering his purpose in these parts he drank deeply but with restraint, pulling away reluctantly when the heartbeat slowed to an erratic crawl. It wouldn’t do to show up unannounced and covered in blood to boot.

 

The stench wafting out of the open door of the shaman’s dwelling was so overwhelming that he could not even begin to detect what it was comprised of. His reluctance to enter, however, seemed to be induced by spellwork rather than plain disgust.

‘Ye ghetta state yer species and business befehre I let y’in, pal.’ An unsteady voice came from beyond the door.

‘My name’s Toki, demons of the nights. Pleased to makes your aquaintance. I was tolds you’s an experts on undead lores.’ He called over the threshold.

‘Whadder ye talkin about? Yer no demon. Just some scrawny vehmpire by the looks of ye.’ A short man with a shock of red dreadlocks appeared to look him up and down, visibly unimpressed.

The man seemed to be the source of the smell, waves of incense, liquor and tobacco among other things rolling off of him, clinging to his hair and clothes.

‘But yeah, you could say ahm an expert. Cahm on in.’

It was easier to ignore the throb of his heartbeat now that he had already fed, not that he would have been tempted to sink into someone who smelled like that. Lord knew what he had in his bloodstream.

‘So, whet’s yer prahblem?’ The shaman gestured for him to sit down on the faded pillows strewn across the floor.

‘Er,’ he fumbled for words. This was going to be embarrassing to explain. ‘yesterday nights I hads some bloods dat was off. Mades me feel strange and dizzy.’

‘Could be anything,’ the shaman frowned. ‘Go ahn.’

‘Wells, when I sleep in my tombs I gots dis dream abouts… a mans. Except it wasn’t a dreams because I swears one moments he was reals, and when I touch him he goes away.’ The agony of that separation was unlike anything he had ever experienced. His entire being seemed to be aimed solely towards a next encounter with that creature.

‘Thet’s weird.’ The shaman considered for a moment, swirling a bottle of rum contemplatively. ‘I gaht nothin. Now you made me curious. We’re gonna have to summon ‘im.’ The shaman popped a dried mushroom in his mouth and washed it down with a swig of rum. 

‘Is dat how you summons things?’

‘Whet rahck have you been livin under? I’m jehst gettin high.’

‘A slabs of marbles, if you must knows.’ Toki retorted while the shaman lit a circle of candles between them.

‘Whetever. I’m gonna need teh place my hehnd somewhere the creature has left his mark on ye.’

‘Oh, he touch me everywhere.’ He replied with a little too much emphasis. 

The shaman gave him a flat stare. ‘Couldn’t have mentioned thet at the stehrt, could you? Lemme guess:  Most beautiful creature ye’ve ever seen, made outta light, looked like an eyhngel…?’

‘Ja, excactlies dat!’ He replied, relieved that he was finally getting somewhere. 

‘Yeah, okay, ye’re dead in two days.’ The shaman took a long drink from his bottle of rum. ‘Cehn’t help ye there, so. Scram-a-rooni.’

‘Whats you mean I’s dead in two days? I’ms alreadies dead.’

‘No, ye’re undead. Ye got fucked by an Incubus and he’s gonna drag yer soul teh hell in two days.’

‘He didn’ts fuck me!’ He said, a little indignant.

‘Well, it’s only a mehtter of time. Ye’re doomed.’ The shaman began shooing him out.

‘I don’ts want to go to hells! Dey gots a bones to pick with me dere!’ He called over his shoulder while the shaman ushered him down the narrow hallway.

‘Naht my prahblem. Don’t cahm back here!’

 

Waiting in the shadows of the graveyard’s gate for a group of revellers to pass, he suddenly caught that scent again. Human blood, but laced with unearthly sweetness. It couldn’t be a coincidence that he happened upon another young woman who smelled like that. She was stumbling around aimlessly, seemingly in a trance, dressed in only a thin nightshift. How attentive of his would-be killer to send him a present.

Leading the unresisting girl onto the grounds of the graveyard, he stopped among a cluster of ancient trees. He glanced around, hoping to see a sign of the Incubus, but the darkness revealed nothing.  

‘Ams dis what it’s like, beins courted?’ He mumbled against the soft skin of the girl’s neck with a smile, inhaling the scent deeply. ‘I coulds gets used to dat. Shames we only has two mores nights.’

 

 

‘An Incubus? But they prey on women by you-know-whatting them, right? What does he want with you?’ The spirit asked, confused, when he stumbled into the mausoleum utterly intoxicated and explained the situation as well as his condition allowed.  

‘I think I eats one of his womens by accidents.’ Toki winced. ‘And another ones just now, but I’s pretties sures it was a gifts dis time.’

‘So what? You are what you eat and this creature wants to make you his bitch? This is getting more homo-erotic by the moment, yeugh.’ The spirit said with barely contained distaste. ‘Well, put my bones back before you go to hell, alright?’

‘Shuts up, I’s not goes to hell.’ He swayed on his feet and grabbed the edge of the tomb to keep from falling over. A vision of pale hair cascading down a gaunt back replaced his surroundings for a moment.

Toki never considered his immortality to be absolute, and this half-life would lose its charm quickly throughout the ages, but as long as he could stave off burning for the rest of eternity, he would. And though it would be a marvellous way to go, the idea that he only had two days left to see this creature frustrated him beyond belief.

‘I’s goins to finds a way, somehow. Only just gots out of my punishments hole, don’ts feels like gettins back in one so soon.’

Filled with determination and denial he started cleaning the tomb with the dustpan he had ‘borrowed’ from the sacristan’s cottage earlier that night. He might as well get settled in properly since he was not going to hell. He liked it here.

Under the dust of ages he found a name inscribed in the marble.

‘Nathanaël? Is dat you names?’

‘Is that what it says? I guess it could be. No, wait. It’s –’ He seemed lost in thought for a moment. ‘Nathan. ’

‘How dids you becomes a ghost, Nathan?’ Toki asked while he swept the dust out of the tomb.

‘Some of us can’t pass on because they can’t let go, others because they did not fulfil their destinies. It’s usually out of some kind of deficiency during the lifetime.’

‘Does you remembers whats you missed?’

‘Did no one ever tell you you’re very nosy?’

‘Ja, usually accompanieds by corporal punishments of some sort. Wells?’ People had a tendency to shut him out, but he wanted to get to the essence of their character, to really know them, at any price.

‘I turned my back on a friend in need. I had a chance to be a hero, but I made a conscious decision to let him rot. It’s my only remaining memory from my human life, and the regret has plagued me for the last three hundred years.’

‘Dat’s brutal. You don’ts seem de types to let friends down. Even lets me sleeps in you tomb.’ 

‘You remind me of him.’ He said softly before shimmering and fading away.

 

~*~

 

The death-echo of the ghost had dissipated for the moment, and the vampire rested peacefully beneath the marble, youthful features smooth in the deep sleep of intoxication. His mind, however, was waiting for him.

‘Reallies charmings of you to leaves me a nice snacks.’ Red eyes peered up at him as they converged on the astral plane.

‘Not so much courteous as convenient for me.’ His curved his lips into a bloodless smile.

The vampire stared at him, uncomprehending, his lips parted just enough to reveal a hint of fangs. Of course, he would have to be in the flesh to be able to communicate in human language.

‘We don’ts needs to talks, I suppose.’ He lowered his mouth onto those parted lips, which received him more eagerly than any of his victims ever had. ‘You cannot wait for me to end you, can you?’ He crooned into that innocent-but-deadly face after trailing a hand across his chest.

Pressing his lips against the hollow of his throat produced exquisitely desperate sounds, and once again the vampire incoherently bemoaned his inability to touch him.

Using his knee to pry the vampire’s legs apart, he felt himself being willed into existence again. The pull was stronger than the previous night, and suddenly he found himself trapped between marble on top of an undead body. He seemed to be wearing his late human form. It had been a while since he had been human – around a hundred and fifty years, if he remembered correctly.

A pair of cold hands pulled them flush together, and this time he stayed, intrigued.

‘You may owns my souls alreadies, but don’ts thinks I’s not goins to make the next two nights last.’ The vampire whispered in his ear before reversing their positions inside the confining space of the tomb. ‘I wills has none of dats one-sided fuckery you pulleds last nights.’

Some nerve he had. He knew he was going to hell, yet he was more concerned with making their coupling more agreeable.  

‘I don’ts owns your souls,’ he corrected the vampire unnecessarily. ‘I just haves de powers to takes it to the Morningstars.’

Fangs pressed into his bottom lip as they kissed, and tendrils of hair tickled his face. Astral projection was a lot more ephemeral; he had almost forgotten what it was like to really feel. The vampire pulled back to stare at him with his mouth open in a silent moan.

‘No, I’s pretties sures you owns my souls,’ he said quietly, ‘and anything else you might want.’

Running a worshipful hand across his cheek, he threaded it in his hair before bending down to nip at his neck carefully. The twin fangs left a trail of indented but unbroken skin on their way down his body, and the thrilling combination of soft lips and razor sharp teeth wrapping around his length was enough to make him forget about a hundred and fifty years of seducing women in their sleep.

Their cold bodies pressed close together as they laid side by side on the marble, his powers returning slowly after spending it in such an unexpected manner.  He had the sinking feeling that after this, he couldn’t bear to force himself upon another frightened, passive woman.

The vampire toyed with the loose tendrils of his hair, and he found that he didn’t mind, strangely enough. His human form was extremely susceptible to sensation.

‘So how dids you gets tangleds up with old Lucifers?’

‘Skips rights to my darkest secrets, who don’ts you?’ The vampire’s open face made him spill his guts in spite of himself. ‘I was de most proscuiminous mans in all of Scandinavia. Hads sex with everybodies. Torneds out dey has a specials place for mens like me in hell.’

With a contemplative nod devoid of judgement the vampire asked: ‘You gots anywheres to go tonights?’

‘Whys?’

‘Stays with me.’  

  

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toki has to deal with the devil to save his soul.

Dusk was falling around the mausoleum when the vampire’s eyes fluttered open. The Incubus had been watching him sleep throughout the day, contemplating what a shame it would be to give him up to the angel Lucifer.

‘You’s still heres.’ The vampire breathed, surprised yet relieved.

He planted a soft kiss on his cheekbone, mindful of his sharp fangs. ‘I wanted to apolgisize abouts you ladyfriend. I hads no idea.’ He seemed sincere, but wasn’t cowed in the slightest.

Sliding the marble slab off the tomb, he sat up to retrieve his clothes.  

‘What ams you names?’    

He hesitated. Incubus – but that was what he was, not who he was. What had his name been?

The ghost suddenly appearing next to them pulled him from his thoughts.

‘He does that to everyone.’

‘Nathans! Coulds you please excuse us?’ The vampire said sharply as he pulled his black frock coat across his lap in embarrassment.

‘Toki, that guy is going to kill you with his…’ The spirit lowered his voice significantly and mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. ‘… you-know-what – I thought you could use a chaperone.’

‘I reallies appreskiates dat you has my backs, pals, but I cans handle dis.’

‘So what, you’re just going to take it lying down that he’s going to drag you to hell?’

The vampire let out an inappropriate bark of laughter. ‘Lyins downs, on my knees, bents over your tombs – ’

‘Toki!’

‘Alrights, I cans be serious. I gots a plans, but times ams runnins out.’

‘Let me know if you need me. Because, well… you get the idea.’

‘Thanks you, Nathans.’

The ghost disappeared through the wall with a ‘Take care’ for the vampire. The exchange was probably the strangest thing he had ever witnessed, but it tugged at something long dormant deep within him. Something he had searched for his entire human life, in vain.

Red eyes burned into his, and it took him a moment to realise he hadn’t answered the question.

‘I don’ts remembers, alrights? It haves been too longks.’ When your name was no longer called it slowly faded as memory eroded over time.

‘You, too? Dis ams getting old.’ The vampire heaved an exasperated sigh.

‘You cans say dats agains.’ He said, feeling the full weariness of his hundred and fifty years of service.

‘Why not gives it up?’ Toki grasped his arm gently.

‘I thinks dat ams unpossibles. My souls ams bounds.’

‘But what if it was poskibles?’ The vampire insisted.

‘Den I woulds be nothingks. Dere’s nothingks heres for me.’ He said simply.

‘I coulds be, for as long as you wanteds me.’ The vampire offered passionately.

The hand on his arm tightened, and the sentiment in his eyes slowly filled a hollow in his chest.

‘How?’ He asked, hoping beyond hope.  

‘There’s dis strange guy whats knows a lots… He helpeds me finds out about you, maybes we coulds goes to him agains.’ Toki raked his eyes over his bare limbs. ‘You gots any clothes or you shows up nakeds everywheres?’

He focused on materializing his skeletal wings, wrapping them around himself in a mockery of modesty.

‘Betters?’

The vampire gaped as he lightly traced the bones through the expanse of white skin before moving to feel the curved horns sticking out of his skull.

‘You gots a tails, too? Dis ams de best things I’s ever seen!’ Toki exclaimed, drinking in the sight of his demonic form.

‘No, de best things ams metaphysical flights. Takes my hands. Where does we needs to go?’

He beat his wings once, twice, plummeting through the fabric of reality to land on the other side of town.

 

~*~

 

‘You ehgain? Thaeght I’d told ye teh never cahm back – holy hell, is thet wheht I think it is?’ The shaman moved to shut the door in his face when he laid eyes on the demon behind Toki.

‘Reallies quicklies, though,’ He wedged his foot in the door. ‘ams it poskible to sets and Incubus free from hells?’

The shaman looked torn between his curiosity and fear of letting more hell spawn into his home.

‘Jesus Christ, ahlright! Thet’s a really interesting question. Close the door behind ye.’ He preceded them into his sitting room. ‘And fer gahd’s sake put sahmthing ahn.’ He called over his shoulder.  

The Incubus willed his wings away when Toki offered him his frock coat to appease the shaman. They sank down onto the pillows while the shaman rifled through a dusty tome, drawing on a water pipe as he read.

‘Whet ye need teh know about souls is thet they can be freed from hell under one condition; enahther soul has teh take its place willingly.’ He addressed the Incubus. ‘Am I right teh say thet ye were hooman once? Yeah? Well, the only way teh git it dahn is teh summon a crahssroads dem’n and git him teh swap yer place with sahmone who will make thet sacrifice fer ye.’

The shaman directed his narrowed gaze at him.

‘Ye’re naht thinkin of givin up yer soul fer some rehndom serial-ehdulterer just becehse he has a pretty face, I hope?’

‘I’s alreadies markeds for hell, so I couldn’ts evens if I wanted dat. Amen’ts there any other ways?’ He pleaded.

‘Naht thet I know of. Sahrry, kid.’

 

~*~

 

Toki’s sigh echoed mournfully across the mausoleum when they returned. ‘I reallies hopeds I woulds finds a way out of dis… ’

The Incubus drew the vampire close and wrapped his arms and his wings around the slumped shoulders, nuzzling him tenderly.

‘It wasn’ts meant to bes.’ He pressed his lips against Toki’s forehead where his hair parted, then his nose and the corner of his mouth. ‘Last nights on earth, and alls dat…?’ He whispered suggestively. ‘We haves until dawns.’

‘Lets me says goodsbye to Nathans first.’ Toki disentangled himself from the wings carefully, taking care not to get his hair and clothes caught on the curved tips of his claws.

‘Nathans?’ The vampire called softly.

The spirit materialized in front of him, solidifying from vapour into a pearlescent human shape.

‘What’s the plan, kid?’ The ghost asked in his gruff voice.

‘It’s not goins to work.’ Toki looked away in defeat. ‘Thoughts I coulds set us free, but the only ways to saves a soul from de pit ams –’

‘For another to take its place.’ The ghost finished quietly.

‘Ja. So I’s come to says goodsbye. Wish we coulds have hads more times to talk. You’s been a goods friends.’

The ghost opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, on the verge of saying something monumental. ‘I’ll do it.’ 

‘Nathans, no. You can’ts.’ Toki protested with vehemence.

‘Hush, Toki. Do you think this is a good existence, lingering inside the veil with only my worst memory to keep me company? It’s time that I own up to my past and face the consequences.’

‘I won’ts lets you.’

‘Listen to me. I’ll do my time in hell so I have a chance at working my way up to heaven eventually. In the meantime, I want you to have a chance at whatever you have got here, you know? You’ve barely lived. So I’m asking you again; what’s the plan?’

 

~*~

 

The wind blew tattered clouds across the new moon while he searched the graveyard for a specific grave. Dawn was not far away, but they needed a name first if they wanted to make the deal with a crossroads demon. The Incubus was no help except for rejecting the names Toki read aloud. Nathan hovered behind him, bound to the finger bone Toki had stuffed in the pocket of his coat.

Something about the unadorned family grave near the wrought-iron fence gave him pause. A man and a woman sharing an unusual name lay buried side by side, no trace of any extended family members.

‘How abouts Skwisgaar?’ He called.

‘I don’ts know. Nothingks come to minds.’

Toki wasn’t quite ready to dismiss it. ‘Does de names Serveta means anything to you?’

The Incubus froze in his steps and visibly cringed. He pulled his wings tight against his back. ‘My mothers…’ He breathed.

 

Three roads converged outside the graveyard, and the Incubus, _Skwisgaar_ , indicated the centre of the crossroads to bury the box containing graveyard dirt, the names _Nathan_ and _Skwisgaar_ written in blood and bones from both their remains.

A gust of wind accompanied the sudden arrival of a formally dressed man in spectacles.

‘I understand you wish to make a deal.’ He spoke in nasal, clipped tones. 

‘Yeah, uhm.’ Nathan mustered his resolve. ‘I want to trade places with him; my soul in hell and his soul restored to his body.’

‘You willingly give up your, ah, immortal soul so this Incubus’ humanity can be restored?’

‘Yeah. I said that, right?’ Nathan met Toki’s eyes, and there was fear to be seen, but also courage.

‘You haves my eternals gratitude, Nathan.’ Skwisgaar intoned solemnly.

‘Good luck, guys. See you in hell.’

‘Nathans, for alls it ams worth – you ams a heroes to me.’ He wiped at the drop of blood leaking from the corner of his eye with the lace on his cuff.   

‘Oh, Toki. That’s good enough for me.’

‘Shall we, ah, seal the deal?’ The crossroads demon extended his hand.

As soon as Nathan clasped it, they disappeared with a snap of fingers.

Skwisgaar let out a strangled groan as his wings started twisting and shrivelling up. His horns and tail retracted into his body, but his pallor did not abate. Toki rushed to his side when he fell to his knees with a cry.

He struggled to hold Skwisgaar upright when he started coughing up blood as if he was dying from consumption, violent wheezes tearing from his lungs.  

‘What ams de matter?’ He whispered, panic rising in his throat.

‘Dis –’ he gasped before launching into another fit of coughs, ‘ams how I died…’ A fine spray of blood misted his chin.

He had made a terrible mistake – he should have been more specific towards the crossroads demon. If Skwisgaar died now he would end up right back in the pit.

Skwisgaar’s pale hands clutched at the lapels of his coat.

‘Turns me – does it now!’ He choked.

Toki sat stunned for a moment as he wracked his mind on how to proceed. Focussing on Skwisgaar’s faltering heartbeat he wondered if he would make it to the mausoleum. He scooped the dying man up and carried him back to the graveyard, the pale body convulsing in his arms as he tried to hurry along without stumbling.

The marble was cold and hard under Skwisgaar’s back, but there was no time for niceties as Toki laid him in the tomb. He cradled Skwisgaar’s head in his hand before tilting it back and sinking his fangs deeply into the artery in his neck, rending the flesh to drain him of blood before his heart could give out. He rubbed his thumb against Skwisgaar’s skull while he drank to comfort him in his death throes. His blood tasted foul and wrong, and it seemed almost a kindness to rid him of it.

Skwisgaar’s heart stopped moments after Toki had exsanguinated him, and he let out a last, rattling breath. The silence in the mausoleum was deafening. Ripping the veins on the inside of his wrist open, he smeared the blood that welled up across Skwisgaar’s grey lips before parting them further and letting the steady trickle fall freely into his mouth.

Nothing happened.

The weak sunlight that filtered in through the oculus in the roof began to burn his skin, and he hurried to shield himself from it, plunging the tomb in pitch blackness.

‘Comes back to me, gods damn you.’ He whispered to Skwisgaar’s rigid corpse as he wrapped his arms around it.

Eyes and ears bleeding with fatigue and emotion, he waited for sleep to overtake him, but it was a long time coming. What if it hadn’t worked? He had sent his friend into the fires of hell on a gamble. He had had two great companions for exactly two days before leading them both to eternal torment in the pit. Typical.

 

Skwisgaar had not awoken at dusk either, and despite his conscience reminding him he should probably start thinking about giving him a proper burial, he numbly dragged a young man kicking and screaming up the steps of the mausoleum.

‘Shhh, it wills be over before you knows it.’ He whispered as he stripped his victim of his jacket and dress shirt.

The hoarse screams echoing off the walls were doing an excellent job of drowning out his inner turmoil, and he smiled mirthlessly as he brought the struggling youth’s wrist up to his mouth. A familiar grating sound made him drop it.

Rising from the tomb in resplendent stark naked pallor, at last, Skwisgaar emerged, and Toki sent out a silent prayer of thanks.

‘Very courteous of you to bring me a snack.’ Skwisgaar smirked, pulling the thrashing young man out of Toki’s grasp with regal entitlement.

Toki watched, mesmerised, as Skwisgaar ripped a chunk of flesh out of his throat and drank greedily.  The pulsing blood running in rivulets down his chin and dripping onto his chest glistened darkly in the minimal light.

Incubus no longer, his beauty still outshone the smattering of stars visible through the oculus. Messy, pale gold hair adorned his head like a nebula, and his preposterously long limbs seemed all the much longer for their slenderness.

Skwisgaar’s throat worked quickly as he drained his victim’s life, and Toki couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight as he crawled closer. Pinning the young man’s flailing hand out of the way he chased the drops of blood that escaped Skwisgaar’s mouth with his tongue, tracing the angles of his neck and collarbone.

Savouring the clean metallic taste despite the cool temperature of the blood on Skwisgaar’s icy skin, he made an unnecessary detour across the planes of his chest to lap at a nipple until it hardened under his tongue.

The young man’s heart uselessly spasmed with too little blood to fill its chambers, and Toki warningly bit into Skwisgaar’s pectoral muscle. 

‘Don’ts drinks after de hearts stop.’ He mouthed against skin sticky with smears of blood and saliva.

Skwisgaar moaned low in his throat and shoved the lifeless body off his lap to make room for Toki. Crushing their mouths together without regard for their twin sets of fangs they kissed until all trace of blood had been licked out of their mouths. It was impossible to break apart long enough to shed Toki’s clothes. Skwisgaar let himself fall back on the dusty granite of the floor, pulling Toki down with him. Slowly grinding their erections together through the fabric they soiled Toki’s clothes twice over.

Midnight chimed in the bell tower of the nearby chapel, but for them there was no need to measure time as they basked in each other’s cold embrace.

‘I coulds gets used to an eternities of dis.’

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is but I got a lovely prompt and my mind sort of ran with it. Let me know if I should bother continuing this or if it's too weird!


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